GIFT  or 

H  .Laid] 


fTT" 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2006  with  funding  from 

Microsoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/soldiarssongsOOIaidrich 


LE061 


BIOGRAPHICAL  SKETCH 


OF 


From  The  National  Cyclopaedia  of  American  ^Biography. 

JAMES  T.  WHITE  &  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS, 
flew  lorft. 

,897. 


LED61 


LAIDLAW,  Alexander  Hamilton,  physician 
and  educator,  was  born  July  11,  1828,  near  Lanark, 
in  Scotland.     Through  his  father,  Alexander  Laid- 
law,  he  traces  his  connection  with  the  Bertrams  the 
Frenches,  and  the  clan  McPherson,  and  through  his 
mother,  Margaret  Hamilton,  with  the  Braidwoods 
of  Lanarkshire.     His  earliest  paternal  ancestor  trace- 
able is  the  Laidlaw  who  joined  Sir  William  Douglas's 
expedition  of  1360,  to  convey  the  heart  of  King  Rob- 
ert the  Bruce  to  the  Holy  Land.     This  ancestor  was 
knighted  for  bravery,  and  was  granted  a  crest  and 
annonal  bearings,  with  the  motto  "Fides  Probata 
Coronat."    The  present  representative  of  the  family 
name  was  brought  over  to  this  country  in  his  fifth 
year,  and  in  1841  entered  the  Philadelphia  Central 
High  School,  under  Dr.  Alexander  Dallas  Bache 
who  soon  noticed  the  lad's  uncommon  abilities  and 
appointed  him  in  1842  one  of  the  night  meteorologi- 
cal observers  in  connection  with  the^U.  S.  coast  sur- 
vey, of  which  he  himself  had  just  been  made  super- 
intendent.    During  this  period  he  pursued  a  parallel 
course  of  study  in  medicine,  under  Dr.  Henry  Mc- 
A urine,    principally  in  the  branches  of  anatomy 
physiology,  and  domestic  medicine,  while  applying 
himself  at  the  same  time  to  the  study  of  chemistry 
and  physics  under  Prof.  James  C.   Booth.     From 
the  date  of  his  graduation  in  1845,  his  life  flowed  in 
two  parallel  streams,  the  educational  and  the  medi- 
cal     In  that  year— to  consider  his  educational  career 
first— alter  a  course  of  drawing  under  Rembrandt 
Peale,    he  became  a   student   in   the  Philadelphia 
Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  commencing  at  the  same  time 
a  course  in  bank-note  engraving,  under  Joseph  Ives 
Pease,    for  whom   he   engraved    the    portraits    in 
1  nomas  Buchanan  Read's  "  Female  Poets  of  Amer- 
ica,     liners'   "History  of  the  Consulate  and  Em- 


SOLDIER  SQMGS 


AND 


LOVE  SONGS 


BY 


A.  H.  LAIDLAW 


PRESS  OF 

William  R.  Jenkins 

NEW  YORK 


Copyright,  1898,  by 
A.  H.  LAIDLAW 


[All  Rights  Reserved] 


A&0  fSU.f^f^^^^U^u 


TO  THE 

SOLDIERS  AND  SAILORS 

OF  THE 

UNITED  STATES 
THE  TWO  ARMS  OF  AMERICAN  SALVATION 


-5781 


CONTENTS. 


1. 

2. 
3. 

4. 
5. 
6. 
7. 
8. 
9. 
10. 
11. 
12. 
13. 
14. 
15. 
16. 
17. 
18. 
19. 
20. 
21. 


Custer, 

The  American  Girl,     . 

The  Good  Ship  "Ohio,5 

The  American  Girls,   . 

The  Union  Oath,   . 

Betsie  Brown,  . 

Sword  of  Jehovah, 

Black  Eyes, 

The  American  £a  Ira, 

Bird  of  the  Summering  North, 

The  War  Song  of  William  the  Conqueror 

The  Light  of  Your  Beautiful  Eyes, 

Babylon, 

The  British  Gyp, 

Death  Song  of  the  Enfants  Perdus,    . 

Fare  thee  well,  0  Love  of  Woman, 

Ever  to  Be,  . 

Jock  and  Jean, 

The  Flag  of  Brothers,    . 

With  a  Ho-Ho-Ho! 

See,  the  Field  of  Battle  Gleams, 

The  Dying  Soldier  to  the  Nightingale, 

Burke  of  the  Brave  Brigade,    . 


PAGE 

1 

2 

4 

5 
.      8 

9 
.    11 

12 
.    13 

16 
.    17 

19 
.     20 

23 
.     24 

25 
.    27 

28 
.    31 

33 
.     34 

36 
.    37 


CONTENTS 


24.  Tears,  Tears,     . 

25.  Sherry  in  the  Saddle,     . 

26.  Home,  Home,      . 

27.  The  Custer  Wail, 

28.  Weep  Not  For  Him,    . 

29.  Tarry  Ye  Not  in  Egypt, 

30.  Gif  a  Lassie  Spurn  a  Laddie, 

31.  The  American  Consummation, 

32.  The  Young  Vets, 

33.  Maiden    Knickerbocker     and     the    Gallant 

Captain  Pickwick, 

34.  It  is  Time  to  Begin  to  Conclude,    . 

35.  Marshal  Key's  Farewell, 

36.  The  Lily  Land  op  France,     . 

37.  The   Three  P's :   The  Pratie,   the    Pig   and 

Poteen, 


40 
42 
43 
46 
47 
49 
50 
52 

53 

55 

57 
60 

61 


PEEFACE. 


In  issuing  this  collection  of  Songs,  the  author  makes 
the  following  acknowledgments : — 

"  The  American  Qa  ira  "  was  suggested  while  read- 
ing the  French  song  of  that  name,  from  which  song 
the  phrase  ga  ira  alone  was  appropriated. 

In  "The  Song  of  William  the  Conqueror,"  his 
characteristic  oath,  "By  the  splendor  of  God!"  is 
used. 

In  the  "Death  Song  of  the  Enfants  Perdus,"  a  few 
remembered  lines  or  fragments  have  been  appro- 
priated from  an  anonymous  and  almost  forgotten 
English  ballad. 

"Burke  of  the  Brave  Brigade"  was  written  in 
memory  of  the  late  Dennis  F.  Burke,  the  last  com- 
mander of  the  Irish  Brigade  in  the  battle  of  Gettys- 
burg. 

"The  Custer  Wail"  was  composed  in  a  dream,  in 
1877. 

In  the  last  two  stanzas  of  "Marshall  Ney's  Fare- 
well," his  own  language  translated  is  used  in  nearly 
half  the  lines.    The  first  line  of  this  poem  is  the 


viii  PREFACE 

expression  used  by  Napoleon,  on  his  voyage  to  St, 
Helena,  when  sighting  the  shore  of  France  for  the 
last  time. 

"The  Lily  Land  of  France"  was  suggested  by  the 
French  song,  "Partant  pour  la  Syrie,"  from  which 
nothing  was  appropriated  but  the  accentual  move- 
ment. 

Except  in  the  above  mentioned  instances,  the  songs 
here  collected  were  composed  without  finding  a  model 
or  a  suggestion  in  any  other  writer. 

The  "Soldier  Songs"  and  the  "Love  Songs"  are 
printed  alternately. 

A.  H.  LAIDLAW. 


SONGS 


SONGS. 

CUSTER. 

Foiled  on  the  field  with  his  dead  boys  around  himy 
All  waiting  for  Earth  to  recover  her  own, 

Fortune  hath  missed  him,  but  Glory  hath  found  himr 
While  fighting  a  thousand  fierce  f  oemen  alone. 

Custer's  the  right  wing,  the  left  and  the  center, 
Himself  is  his  only  reserve  and  supply. 

This  is  a  battle  for  Spartans  to  enter, 
Where  One  makes  an  army  to  conquer  or  die. 

Straight  on  his  steed  doth  he  meet  the  grim  battle, 
The  red  line  of  danger  grows  deadly  and  large, 

Loud  from  the  hills  rings  the  rifleman's  rattle, 
But  Custer  is  ready,  so  forward  and  charge ! 

Firing  with  left  hand,  and  fencing  with  right, 

The  reins  in  his  teeth,  like  a  handless  young  Hun, 

What  is  his  fate  in  the  terrible  fight  ? 

The  thousands  hath  slain  him,  yet  Custer  hath  won*. 

His  foemen  still  seek  him  in  terror  and  wonder, 
Alive  in  the  tempest  that  darkens  the  vale ; 

His  charge  they  still  fear  in  the  echoing  thunder, 
His  sword  in  the  lightning,  his  voice  in  the  gale. 


v  l*k      •  "  •  :•'•  %:  songs 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRL. 


The  maid  for  man  to  love, 

All  other  forms  above, 
Is  she  whose  home  adorns  the  loam  of  this  fair  land 
of  mine : 

American  in  sire, 

She's  born  of  love  and  fire, 
And  dominates  the  heart  of  man  as  by  a  right  divine. 

By  rhyming  swain  pursued, 
She  meets  the  puling  dude, 
Whose  hopes  to  win  are  centered  in  his  pale  Platonic 
plan; 

American  in  heart, 
She  spurns  his  petty  part, 
Then  speeds  him  to  the  army  mess  to  prove  himself  a 
man. 

With  tact  burned  in  the  bone, 
She  stands  herself,  alone, 
The  peer  of  peers  of  ancient  years,  for  highest  func- 
tions fit ; 

American  in  head, 
Who  woos  her,  she  may  wed, 
If  he  hath  grace,  and  wit,  and  worth,  and  sense,  and 
soul  and  grit. 


SONGS  3 


Alive,  alert  and  sweet, 

In  rounded  poise,  complete, 
Come  any  day  what  will  or  may,  she  meets  the  world 
at  par; 

American  in  soul, 

She  brooks  no  man's  control, 
But  brings  to  one  a  crystal  love  as  stainless  as  a  star. 

Who  wins,  she  weds,  retains, 
She  lives,  she  loves,  she  reigns 
Through  home  and  hall,  and  over  all  the  sovereign  of 
the  scene ; 

American  in  dower, 
She  knows  her  native  power, 
And  holds  the  heart  of  him  she  loves,  a  Woman  and 
a  Queen. 


80SGS 


THE  GOOD  SHIP  "OHIO." 

Swift  o'er  the  lee  when  the  wind  flies  free, 

Follows  the  ship  "  Ohio," 
With  skies  o'ercast  she  bends  to  the  blast, 

Like  a  billowy  bird  she  can  fly,  O, 
And  she'll  leave  all  behind  in  a  whispering  wind 

As  soft  as  a  maiden's  sigh,  O. 
Or  when  o'er  the  Lakes  the  storm-cloud  breaks, 

And  the  waves  scoop  their  murderous  hollow, 
While  the  weaker  ship  to  its  mooring  must  slip 

And  safe  in  a  harbor  wallow, 
In  the  front  of  the  storm  she  fills  her  white  form, 

And  the  demons  of  danger  follow. 

O  for  the  life  'mid  the  storm  and  the  strife 

Of  sailor  and  storm  and  billow ! 
Far  be  my  bed  from  the  lubberly  dead 

That  sleep  near  the  wailing  willow, 
But  give  me  the  grave  of  the  mutinous  wave 

With  its  heaving  and  whistling  pillow. 
Down  from  the  skies  look  the  spectral  eyes 

Of  our  kelpie,  sprite  and  bewailer, 
And  gathering  in  crowds  by  the  shivering  shrouds, 

They  croon  while  our  cheeks  grow  paler, 
And  they  sing  as  they  sweep  o'er  the  clamorous  deep 

"We  love  the  hot  heart  of  a  sailor!" 


SONGS 


THE  AMERICAN  GIRLS. 

Yes  !    The  land  we  love 
Is  a  land  of  pretty  girls, 

In  grand  variety ; 
With  their  many  colored  eyes 
And  their  multi-colored  curls, 

They'll  steal  thy  heart  from  thee. 

If  you  travel  in  the  North, 
One  will  gleam  in  glory  forth, 

With  her  blue  eyes,  O,  so  blue ! 
And  her  flash  of  golden  hair 
Will  be  flirting  in  the  air, 

While  entrancing  all  the  soul  in  you. 
Oho!    My  Boy!    Oho! 
Always  for  your  weal  and  never  for  your  woe, 
Tour  little  heart  will  gallop  on  the  go, 

And  it  will  not  give  you  rest 

Within  your  manly  breast, 
Till  you  land  yourself  in  toto  at  her  toe. 
Oho!    My  Boy!     Oho! 

If  you  travel  in  the  South, 
Tou  will  find  a  rosy  mouth, 
And  a  black  eye,  O  so  black ! 


SONGS 


And  some  strands  of  raven  hair 
Will  purloin  your  heart  just  there, 
And  you'll  never  get  the  poor  thing  back. 
Oho!    My  Boy!     Oho!    Etc. 


If  you  travel  in  the  East, 
Your  dear  soul  will  have  a  feast 

On  a  sweet  eye,  O  so  sweet ! 
And  a  most  seductive  curl 
Will  there  give  your  heart  a  twirl 

That  will  fling  you  at  two  queenly  feet. 
Oho!    My  Boy!     Oho!    Etc. 


If  you  travel  in  the  West, 

One  shy  glance  will  pierce  your  breast 

From  a  bright  eye,  O  so  bright ! 
And  an  auburn  heaven  of  hair 
Will  so  glorify  the  air, 

You'll  surrender  all  your  soul  at  sight. 
Oho!     My  Boy!     Oho! 
Always  for  your  weal  and  never  for  your  woe, 
Your  little  heart  will  gallop  on  the  go, 

And  it  will  not  give  you  rest 

Within  your  manly  breast, 
Till  you  land  yourself  in  toto  at  her  toe. 
Oho!    My  Boy!     Oho! 


SONGS 


Thus,  the  land  we  love 
Is  a  land  of  pretty  girls, 

In  grand  variety ; 
With  their  many  colored  eyes 
And  their  multi-colored  curls, 

They'll  steal  thy  heart  from  thee. 


SONGS 


THE  UNION  OATH. 

By  the  Revolution's  dead, 
By  their  Blood  in  battle  shed, 
By  the  Earth  that  drank  their  gore, 
By  the  Heaven  in  which  they  soar, 
By  the  Union  Stripe  and  Star, 
By  the  God  of  Righteous  War, 

Swear  to  conquer,  or  to  die ! 
Swear  to  conquer, 
Swear  to  conquer, 

Swear  to  conquer  now,  or  die ! 

By  the  Revolution's  dead, 
By  their  Blood  in  battle  shed, 
By  the  Earth  that  drank  their  gore,. 
By  the  Heaven  in  which  they  soar, 
By  the  Union  Stripe  and  Star, 
By  the  God  of  Righteous  War, 

We  will  conquer  now,  or  die ! 
We  will  conquer ! 
We  will  conquer ! 

We  will  conquer  now,  or  die ! 


SONGS 


BETSIE  BROWN. 

I  have  loved  you  all  my  days, 

Betsie  Brown, 
And  I'll  never  cease  to  praise 

Betsie  Brown  ; 
Still  must  I  break  love's  tie, 

To  act  a  patriot  part, 
But  I'll  yield  thee,  as  I  die, 
The  last  throb  of  my  heart, 
Betsie  Brown ! 

For  my  country  let  me  die, 

Betsie  Brown, 
And  never  grieve  nor  cry, 

Betsie  Brown, 
But  lay  me  down  to  sleep 

Where  my  country's  tempests  rave, 
Where  its  mountain  moss  can  creep 
O'er  an  humble  patriot's  grave, 
Betsie  Brown! 

And  should  my  boy,  with  thee, 

Betsie  Brown, 
By  my  grave  once  bend  the  knee, 

Betsie  Brown, 


10  SONGS 


Teach  him  to  bleed  or  die 
For  his  country  or  his  God, 

Like  him  whose  ashes  lie 
Beneath  the  loving  sod, 
Betsie  Brown ! 


SONGS  11 


SWORD  OF  JEHOVAH. 

Sword  of  Jehovah,  swing 
O'er  the  world's  ravening, 
Wide  on  the  tempest's  wing, 

Swing  far !     Swing  free ! 
Where  the  mailed  hand  is  set, 
Braced  to  the  bayonet, 
Bloody  and  warm  and  wet, 

Swing  far !     Swing  free ! 

Strike  where  the  sordid  great 
Revel  in  royal  state, 
Liberty  desolate, 

Strike  far!     Strike  free! 
Where  the  King's  coursers  champ, 
Where  the  mailed  millions  tramp, 
RiDged  round  the  tyrant's  camp, 

Strike  far !     Strike  free ! 

Fall  where  the  Kaiser  stands, 
Guarded  by  gory  bands, 
Known  by  their  bloody  hands, 

Fall  far!    Fall  free! 
Till  the  last  Despots  die, 
Till  the  Christ,  lifted  high, 
Consummates  Destiny, 

Fall  far!     Fall  free! 


12  SONGS 


BLACK  EYES. 

The  Blue  Eye  will  do  if  the  courting  is  through 

And  the  way  of  the  marriage  is  sunny, 
And  it  helps  in  the  fun  till  the  sweet  life  is  done 

If  the  girl  brings  a  mint  of  good  money. 
But  when  aft  or  before  the  good  parson's  front  door, 

With  calm  or  a  storm  on  the  track ; 
For  Love  red,  red  hot,  with  the  ducats  or  not, 

There  is  never  an  eye  like  the  Black. 

The  Hazel  is  true  to  you  all  the  way  through, 

And  it  burns  with  a  light  warm  and  steady ; 
Only  if  it  is  Fred  that  she  has  in  her  head, 

It  is  burning  for  no  one  but  Freddie. 
But  the  Black  Eye  will  veer  and  stake  kingdoms  to  spear 

Whatever  it  likes  on  the  track, 
And  as  a  love-lance  to  its  lord  in  the  dance 

There  is  never  an  eye  like  the  Black. 

Here  then  is  good  health  and  without  or  with  wealth 

To  the  deep  raven  eye  of  my  charmer! 
It's  a  heavenly  spell  when  it  loves  very  well, 

Only  when  it  does  not  it  is  warmer. 
And  it's  little  I  care,  only  so  I  get  there, 

Whichever  I  find  on  the  track, 
For  Heaven  or  Hell  in  its  magical  spell 

There  is  never  an  eye  like  the  Black. 


SONGS  13 


THE  AMERICAN  QA  IRA. 

With  a  sullen,  setting  Sun, 

It  will  come ! 
With  the  days  of  Despots  done, 

It  will  come ! 
With  a  sullen,  setting  Sun, 
With  the  days  of  Despots  done, 
With  the  wrath  of  God  begun, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

With  a  ruddy,  bloody  Moon, 

It  will  come ! 
With  remorseless  slaughter  soon, 

It  will  come ! 
With  a  ruddy,  bloody  Moon, 
With  remorseless  slaughter  soon, 
With  our  Tyrants  stripped  and  strewn, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

With  a  meteoric  glare, 

It  will  come ! 
With  Destruction  in  the  air. 

It  will  come ! 


14  SOXGS 


With  a  meteoric  glare, 
With  Destruction  in  the  air, 
With  the  vengeance  of  Despair, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

With  abasement  of  the  proud, 

It  will  come ! 
With  the  last  King's  crimson  shroud, 

It  will  come ! 
With  abasement  of  the  proud, 
With  the  last  King's  crimson  shroud, 
But  with  Christ  within  the  cloud, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

With  the  merry  Morning  Stars, 

It  will  come ! 
With  the  end  of  royal  wars, 

It  will  come ! 
With  the  merry  Morning  Stars, 
With  the  end  of  royal  wars, 
With  the  last  of  scourging  Tsars, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

Yea !    An  angel  from  the  fight, 
It  will  come ! 


SONGS  15 


With  fair  Liberty  in  light, 

It  will  come ! 
Yea!    An  angel  from  the  fight, 
With  fair  Liberty  in  light, 
Linked  with  Everlasting  Right, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

By  the  Christ  who  hears  our  cries, 

It  will  come ! 
By  the  Spirit  of  the  Skies, 

It  will  come ! 
By  the  Christ  who  hears  our  cries, 
By  the  Spirit  of  the  Skies, 
By  the  God  who  never  lies, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 

With  a  place  for  you  and  me, 

It  will  come  1 
At  the  feastings  of  the  Free, 

It  will  come ! 
With  a  place  for  you  and  me, 
At  the  feastings  of  the  Free, 
With  eternal  Jubilee, 

It  will  come ! 

It  will  come ! 


16  SONGS 


BIRD  OF  THE  SUMMERING  NORTH. 

Bird  of  the  summering  North, 

Whither  away? 
Fly  you  so  gaily  forth 

Simply  to  stay 
Nested  in  northern  bowers 
Till  the  late  flushing  flowers 
Turn  in  October  hours 

Ashen  and  gray? 

Bear,  then,  this  message,  Dove, 

When  you  depart, 
Safe  to  my  northern  Love, 

Quick!     Like  a  dart! 
Bill  her  and  coo  her  this 
Seal  of  triumphant  bliss, 
One  young,  immortal  kiss, 

Hot  from  my  heart. 

Then,  in  the  autumn  time, 

Tailing  the  pole, 
From  my  Love's  cooling  clime 

Make  me  your  goal ; 
Flash  to  this  field  of  Fame, 
Linked  with  her  darling  name, 
All  her  concordant  flame, 

Deep  from  her  soul. 


SONGS  17 


THE    WAR    SONG    OF    WILLIAM    THE 
CONQUEROR. 

iiBy  the  splendor  of  God!"  was  a  characteristic  oath 
of  William  the  Conqueror. 

By  the  splendor  of  God !    We  come !    We  come ! 
To  fight  to  the  death  for  Old  England's  crown, 
To  reign  by  God's  grace  or  in  gore  go  down. 
By  the  splendor  of  God !    We  come!    We  come! 
Sword  in  hand,  by  a  King  who  dares 
To  fight  that  God  and  our  Right  be  made 
Our  Right  Divine  by  a  bloody  blade, 
Sword  in  hand,  by  a  King  who  dares, 
By  a  King  who  dares. 

By  the  splendor  of  God !    We  come  I    We  come ! 
In  swoop  for  fierce  flesh,  like  a  bird  of  prey, 
In  scent  of  the  blood  of  the  brave  to-day, 
By  the  splendor  of  God !    We  come !    We  come ! 
Sword  in  hand,  for  the  Love  of  God ! 
Since  blood  is  holy  and  royal  wine, 
Advance!     Drink  health  to  the  Norman  line, 
Sword  in  hand,  for  the  Love  of  God ! 
For  the  Love  of  God ! 


18  SONGS 


By  the  splendor  of  God !     We  come !     We  come ! 
Beware  of  the  shock  of  the  serried  rank ! 
Beware  of  the  brand  of  the  fiery  Frank ! 
By  the  splendor  of  God !     We  come !     We  come ! 
Sword  in  hand,  by  the  Grace  of  God, 
We  fight  till  death  for  Old  England's  crown, 
Till  Harold,  or  We,  with  our  crowns,  go  down, 
Sword  in  hand,  by  the  Grace  of  God ! 
By  the  Grace  of  God ! 

By  the  splendor  of  God !     We  come !     We  come  j 
To  fight  to  the  death  for  Old  England's  crown, 
To  reign  by  God's  grace  or  in  gore  go  down. 
By  the  splendor  of  God !     We  come!     We  come! 
Sword  in  hand,  by  a  King  who  dares 

To  fight  that  God  and  our  Right  be  made 
Our  Right  Divine  by  a  bloody  blade, 
Sword  in  hand,  by  a  King  who  dares, 
By  a  King  who  dares ! 


SONGS  19 


THE  LIGHT  OF  YOUR  BEAUTIFUL  EYES. 

As  I  stroll  by  the  stream  where  you  stray, 

A  beam  is  reflected  afar, 
Which  seems,  on  the  waters,  a  ray — 

The  ray  from  a  luminous  star. 
What  is  it  that  sweetens  my  sight, 

That  lightens  the  leaf-burthened  skies? 
What  is  it,  my  Love,  but  the  light, — 

The  light  of  your  beautiful  eyes? 

As  nearer  and  nearer  I  roam, 

In  the  month  of  the  rosy-mouthed  June, 
What  is  it  that  throws  round  your  home 

The  mirage  of  the  mystical  moon? 
What  is  it  that  softens  my  sight, 

That  mellows  the  marvellous  skies? 
What  is  it,  my  Love,  but  the  light, — 

The  light  of  your  beautiful  eyes? 

As  I  gaze  on  the  girl  of  my  love, 

My  ravishing,  radiant  one, 
There  seems  to  shower  light  from  above, 

And  I  look  for  the  summer-time  sun. 
What  is  it  that  dazzles  my  sight, 

That  rivals  the  roseate  skies? 
What  is  it,  my  Love,  but  the  light, — 

The  light  of  your  beautiful  eyes? 


20  SONGS 


BABYLON. 

Thou  art  mighty, 

Babylon ! 
Thou  art  haughty, 

Babylon ! 
Haughty,  mighty, 

Babylon ! 
Through  thy  streets  the  bats  shall  fly, 
O'er  thy  ruins  owls  shall  cry, 
All  thy  chivalry  shall  die, 

Babylon ! 

Golden-godded 

Babylon ! 
Idol-cursM 

Babylon ! 
Idol-cursed,  golden-godded, 

Babylon ! 
All  thy  gods  shall  bite  the  dust, 
All  thy  golden  godlets  must 
Sink  to  rottenness  and  rust, 

Babylon ! 

Thou  art  royal, 

Babylon ! 
Thou  art  ancient, 

Babylon ! 


SONGS  21 


Ancient,  royal, 

Babylon ! 
Royal  laws  and  ancient  lies 
Vanish  when  the  people  rise, 
Truth  must  live,  but  Falsehood  dies, 

Babylon ! 

Thou  art  sensual, 

Babylon ! 
Thou  art  sotted, 

Babylon ! 
Sotted,  sensual, 

Babylon  I 
History  this  tale  will  tell, 
To  the  righteous  all  is  well ; 
Daniel  rose,  Belshazzar  fell, 

Babylon ! 

Thou  art  bloody, 

Babylon ! 
Thou  art  cruel, 

Babylon ! 
Cruel,  bloody, 

Babylon  1 
Cain's  curse  on  your  brow  is  set, 
Bloodstains  God  will  not  forget, 
And  His  curse  pursues  you  yet, 

Babylon ! 


22  SONGS 


Thou  art  crumbled, 

Babylon ! 
Thou  art  humbled, 

Babylon ! 
Humbled,  crumbled, 

Babylon ! 
Vengeance  leaves  no  gated  wall, 
Vengeance  leaves  no  gilded  hall, 
Vengeance  blasts  and  buries  all, 

Babylon ! 


SONGS 


THE  BRITISH  GYP. 

That  luscious  lip,  the  British  Gyp, 

I  leave  to  rove,  a  reckless  ranger, 
To  seek  a  life,  with  War  for  wife, 

Defying  Death,  despising  danger; 
Yet,  while  I  speed  from  field  to  field, 

Enamored  of  the  stranger's  daughter, 
I  know  the  best  that  earth  can  yield 

Are  nested  by  the  British  water. 

Her  lithe,  blithe  form  outbraves  the  storm 

That  spreads  disaster  in  its  shadow, 
And  when  it  clears,  her  form  appears 

A  flower  upon  the  greening  meadow; 
And  if,  for  fame,  you'll  have  me  name 

The  land  of  most  bewitching  daughters, 
My  heart  replies,  with  softening  sighs, 

The  land  begirt  by  British  waters. 

Her  starry  eye  lets  arrows  fly, 

That  pierce  the  ice  of  arctic  reason ; 
The  kiss  that  thrills,  the  glance  that  kills, 

Make  wild  the  wise  and  laugh  at  Treason; 
And  when,  a  soldier  on  parade, 

Beyond  the  bourne  of  British  waters, 
My  eyes  are  on  the  stranger  maid, 

My  heart  is  with  the  English  daughters. 


24  SONGS 


DEATH  SONG  OF  THE  ENFANTS  PERDUS. 

'Tis  here  we  invade  the  valley, 

Away  from  the  realms  of  breath, 
And,  in  most  successful  sally, 

We  enter  the  gates  of  death ; 
So,  stand  in  the  last  line  steady, 

'Tis  here  our  true  glory  lies ; 
Hurrah  for  the  dead  already ! 

Three  cheers  for  the  next  who  dies ! 

Though  here,  the  wet  eyes  of  woman 

Will  fill  with  the  falling  tear, 
Yet,  facing  old  Death,  our  foeman, 

We  shout  our  reviving  cheer. 
Though  high  beat  the  hearts  we  cherish, 

The  dead  we  most  highly  prize : 
Hurrah  for  the  first  to  perish ! 

Three  cheers  for  the  next  who  dies ! 

The  earth  we  now  leave  behind  us, 

The  heavens  now  beckon  before, 
Though  dust  of  the  dead  may  blind  us, 

We  march  for  the  shining  shore ; 
!No  more  can  our  Hope  deceive  us, 

Our  heart  to  it  now  replies, 
Hurrah  for  the  first  to  leave  us ! 

Three  cheers  for  the  next  who  dies ! 


SONGS 


FARE  THEE  WELL,  O  LOVE  OF  WOMAN! 

Fare  thee  well,  O  Love  of  Woman ! 

Lip  of  Beauty,  fare  thee  well ! 
Thy  soft  heart,  divinely  human, 

Holds  me  by  a  magic  spell. 
All  that  grieves  me  now  to  perish 

Is  the  loss  of  one  bright  eye, 
And  I  still  the  vision  cherish 

While  I  lay  me  down  to  die. 

At  my  headstone,  kindly  kneeling, 

May  I  beg  a  votive  tear? 
Woman,  with  her  pure  appealing, 

Is  my  angel  at  the  bier. 
Let  me  have  but  one  such  linger, 

Praying  Christ  to  help  and  save, 
Let  me  have  but  one  dear  finger 

Place  a  chaplet  on  my  grave. 

Though  the  soldier  dies  in  dying, 

The  true  lover  never  dies ; 
Upward,  from  his  embers  flying, 

He  transfigures  in  the  skies. 
Heaven  is  rare,  but  Love  is  rarer, 

Whether  it  be  blest  or  crost ; 
Heaven  blooms  fair,  but  Love  blooms  fairer, 

But,  O  God,  at  what  a  cost ! 


SONGS 


Fare  thee  well,  O  Love  of  Woman ! 

Lip  of  Beauty,  fare  thee  well ! 
Thy  soft  heart,  divinely  human, 

Holds  me  by  a  magic  spell. 
All  that  grieves  me  now  to  perish 

Is  the  loss  of  one  bright  eye, 
And  I  still  the  vision  cherish 

While  I  lay  me  down  to  die. 


SONGS  27 


EVER  TO  BE. 

Ever  to  be 

Land  of  the  free, 
Hold  up  your  banner  of  light  to  the  eye, 

High!    High! 

Let  its  folds  fly, 
Blessing  the  earth  and  rejoicing  the  sky. 

Ever  to  be 

Flag  of  the  free, 
Long  as  the  earth  shows  the  sight  of  a  slave, 

Wave !    Wave ! 

Mighty  to  save, 
Fronting  the  fight  in  the  eye  of  the  brave. 

Ever  to  be 

Light  of  the  free, 
Lashed  to  the  palm  tree  or  nailed  to  the  pine, 

Shine!    Shine! 

Liberty's  sign, 
Lighting  the  human  to  find  the  Divine. 


SONGS 


JOCK  AND  JEAN. 

JOCK. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  me,  lassie, 
Will  you,  will  you? 
Sail  the  sounding  sea,  lassie, 
Will  you,  will  you? 
Where  the  Sacramento  flows, 
'Twixt  the  peaks  of  sifted  snows, 
Past  the  fadeless  Southron  rose, 
Sweeter  than  the  heather-blows, 
Lassie,  lassie? 

JEAN. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  thee,  laddie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Sail  the  sounding  sea,  laddie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Whether  rivers  fail  or  flow, 
Whether  roses  blanch  or  blow, 
Where  thou  goest,  I  will  go, 
As  your  loving  Jean,  my  Jo, 

Laddie,  laddie! 

JOCK. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  me,  lassie, 
Will  you,  will  you? 


SONGS  29 


Sail  the  sounding  sea,  lassie, 

Will  you,  will  you? 
Where  the  mountains,  crowned  with  pine, 
Dipping  to  the  western  brine, 
Shade,  with  everlasting  vine, 
Golden  grape  and  countless  kine, 

Lassie,  lassie? 

JEAN. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  thee,  laddie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Sail  the  sounding  sea,  laddie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Whether  mountains  dip  or  bear 
Heavenward  through  our  future  air, 
Princely  feast  or  peasant  fare, 
What  thou  darest,  I  will  dare, 

Laddie,  laddie! 

JOCK. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  me,  lassie, 

Will  you,  will  you? 
Sail  the  sounding  sea,  lassie, 

Will  you,  will  you? 
Where  the  lambies,  on  the  braes, 
Gambol  in  the  golden  haze, 
And  the  solar  disc  delays 
Heaven  throughout  the  happy  days, 

Lassie,  lassie? 


30  SONGS 


JEAN. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  thee,  laddie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Sail  the  sounding  sea,  laddie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Wheresoe'er  thy  feet  delay, 
Drenched  in  rain  or  golden  spray, 
To  the  end  of  life's  long  day, 
I  will  love  thee  as  I  say, 

Laddie,  laddie! 

JOCK  AND  JEAN. 

O'er  the  deep  wi'  thee,  dearie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
Sail  the  sounding  sea,  dearie, 

Will  I,  will  I, 
'Neath  the  starred  or  starless  sky, 
Heaven  is  where  the  heart  beats  high, 
With  a  love  that  cannot  die ; 
So  we  wander,  you  and  I, 

Dearie,  dearie! 


SONGS  31 


THE  FLAG  OF  BROTHERS. 

There  is  blood  upon  the  Banner,  the  Banner  of  the 

Free, 
There  is  blood  upon  our  Banner,  and  it  lies  'twixt  you 

and  me, 
And,  like  the  blood  of  Abel,  it  crieth  from  the  sod, 
And  it  crieth  unto  God  throughout  the  Morning. 

There's  a  blot  upon  the  Banner,  the  Banner  of  the 

Free, 
There's  a  blot  upon  our  Banner,  and  it  lies  'twixt  you 

and  me, 
And,  like  the  soul  of  Samuel,  it  riseth  from  the  clod, 
And  it  crieth  unto  God  throughout  the  Nooning. 

There's  a  curse  upon  the  Banner,  the  Banner  of  the 

Free, 
There's  a  curse  upon  our  Banner,  and  it  lies  'twixt 

you  and  me, 
And,  like  the  curse  of  Cain,  it  scars  our  brows  with 

pain, 
And  it  sears  a  Brother's  brain  throughout  the  E'ening. 

May  the  Lord  now  bleach  this  Banner,  the  Banner  of 

the  Free, 
And  keep  that  Banner  floating  as  a  pledge  'twixt  you 

and  me, 


32  SONGS 


And,  like  the  eyes  of  Noah,  as  the  Flood  of  Blood 

flies  from  us, 
May  we  see  the  Bow  of  Promise  in  the  Morning. 

Our  Banner,  then,  unsullied,  this  Banner  of  the  Free, 
Will  be  a  Brother's  Banner,  held  up  by  you  and  me, 
And,  like  a  Christian  people,  as  example  unto  others, 
We  will  wave  the  Flag  of  Brothers  on  that  Morning! 


SONGS  33 


WITH  AHO-HO-HO!    AND  A  HI-HI-HI! 

With  a  ho-ho-ho !  and  a  hi-hi-hi ! 

With  a  canzonet  and  tabor, 
Thus,  with  ho-ho-ho !  and  our  hi-hi-hi ! 

We  amble,  ramble,  gambol,  I 
And  my  lily-fingered  neighbor. 

With  a  ha-ha-ha !  and  a  he-he-he ! 

With  a  joyous  laugh  and  caper, 
Thus,  with  ha-ha-ha !  and  our  he-he-he ! 

In  sunlight,  moonlight,  starlight,  we 
Both  consume  our  life's  bright  taper. 

With  a  hi-hi-hi !  and  a  ho-ho-ho ! 

With  a  prancing,  dancing  gaiter, 
Thus,  with  hi-hi-hi!  and  our  ho-ho-ho! 

We  ringing,  singing,  swinging,  go, 
Through  the  glees  of  our  Creator. 

With  a  he-he-he !  and  a  ha-ha-ha ! 

Through  all  spells  of  wind  or  weather, 
Thus,  with  he-he-he !  and  our  ha-ha-ha ! 

Till  f railing,  ailing,  failing,  ah ! 
We  will  die  and  lie  together. 

Thus,  with  ho-ho-ho !  and  a  hi-hi-hi ! 

With  a  canzonet  and  tabor, 
Yea,  with  ho-ho-ho !  and  our  hi-hi-hi ! 

We  amble,  ramble,  gambol,  I 
And  my  lily-fingered  neighbor. 


34  SONGS 


SEE  THE  FIELD  OF  BATTLE  GLEAMS. 

See,  the  field  of  battle  gleams 
Yonward  past  the  tented  streams, 

There  the  foe  is  camping ; 
By  the  thirst-assuaging  rill, 
From  the  copse  behind  the  hill 

Hear  his  war-steeds  champing. 

Northern  Knights  and  Southern  Sons, 
Onward  to  the  gleaming  guns ! 

Now's  the  hour  of  battle ! 
Though  his  files  be  ten  to  one, 
Seek  the  foe  from  sun  to  sun, 

Where  his  muskets  rattle. 

O'er  the  walls  with  slaughter  wet, 
O'er  the  ball-scarred  parapet, 

Daring  man  and  missile, 
Charge  to  meet  his  best  or  worst, 
Where  his  shrieking  bombshells  burst 

And  his  bullets  whistle. 

Roll  in  waves  of  living  blue, 

Pierce  the  columned  centre  through, 

Fill  the  world  with  wonder ; 
Rush,  as  with  a  lion's  will, 
Where  his  lightnings  flash  to  kill 

And  his  cannon  thunder. 


SONGS  35 


Meet  him  with  a  tiger's  spring, 
Quicker  than  an  eagle's  wing, 

Where  the  bayonet  piercest. 
When  you  feel  the  foeman's  breath, 
Soldier,  strike  for  life  or  death, 

Where  the  fight  is  fiercest. 

Than  a  coward,  proved  and  known, 
Better  be  to  atoms  blown, 

Where  the  doomed  are  dying. 
Welcome  death  in  wildest  way, 
But  to  mingle  with  that  clay 

Where  the  brave  are  lying. 

Thus  will  Honor  be  our  meed 
For  some  doubly  daring  deed 

When  we  end  our  story. 
Then  in  graves  with  roses  blown, 
By  the  hands  of  patriots  strown, 

We  will  sleep  in  glory. 


SONGS 


THE  DYING  SOLDIER  TO  THE  NIGHTINGALE. 

I  plead  with  tears  to  thee, 

Sweet  warbler  of  the  shade, 
Breathe  not  such  strains  to  me, 

The  sweetest  ever  made. 
Who  bade  thee  slight  my  woes? 

Who  taught  to  pierce  my  heart? 
Leave  me  to  death's  repose, 

Depart,  sweet  bird,  depart. 

Still  come,  with  every  strain, 

Warm  dreams  of  woeless  days ; 
Still  beam,  on  life's  past  plain, 

Love's  long  lost  golden  rays, 
That  gleam  on  forms  gone  by, 

On  friends  I  called  my  own, 
Who  calmly  rest,  while  I, 

Wild  wandering,  weep  alone. 

But  if  thou  still  must  sing, 

Sing  of  my  endless  woes, 
Of  Life,  a  poisoned  spring, 

Of  Love,  a  scattered  rose ; 
Wail- warble  those  who  weep, 
Wild- warble  but  the  brave ; 

To  the  wearied,  sing  of  sleep, 
And  sing,  to  me,  the  grave. 


SONGS  37 


BURKE  OF  THE  BRAVE  BRIGADE. 

Inscribed  to  Dennis  F.  Burke,  last  Commander  of  the 
Irish  Brigade,  at  Gettysburg. 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   SOUTH. 

"  Why  come  ye  to  this  mountain,  lads, 

In  panoply  of  war? 
Why  leave  ye  the  hills  of  your  native  heath, 

To  seek  these  heights  afar?" 

BURKE  OF  THE  BRAVE  BRIGADE. 

11  We  have  come  to  unchain  the  slave, 

And  not  for  a  dress  parade ; 
We  have  come  to  save  man's  flesh  from  the  lash," 

Said  Burke  of  the  Brave  Brigade. 
"We  have  heard  his  low  cry  afar, 

We  have  felt  the  self -same  chain, 
And  we've  come,  my  friends,  through  peace  or  war, 
To  make  the  land  of  the  Union  Star 

The  land  without  a  stain." 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE   SOUTH. 

"  Go  home  to  your  native  soil, 

Ye  sons  of  the  Celtic  brave ; 
You  will  have  to  fight  till  the  last  man  falls 

To  free  the  Southern  slave." 


SONGS 


BURKE  OF  THE  BRAVE  BRIGADE. 

"We  have  come  to  this  fight  to-day 

With  no  maiden,  bloodless  blade ; 
We  have  coine  to  fight  till  the  last  man  falls," 

Said  Burke  of  the  Brave  Brigade. 
"We  have  felt  of  an  iron  heel, 

We  have  known  a  tyrant's  hand, 
We  have  come  to  fight  till  the  Rebels  reel 
From  the  shotted  shell  of  our  cannon  peal, 

And  the  hero-handled  brand." 

THE  SPIRIT  OF  THE  SOUTH. 

"Then  come  to  the  battle  charge ! 

Welcome  the  Celtic  yell! 
'Twixt  you  and  the  South,  at  the  cannon's  mouth, 

'Tis  Gettysburg  or  Hell!" 

BURKE  OF  THE  BRAVE  BRIGADE. 

"Then  'tis  Gettysburg  Heights  or  Hell! 

We  are  here  till  the  game  is  played ; 
And  a  Hell  he  will  feel  who  dares  our  steel," 

Said  Burke  of  the  Brave  Brigade. 
So  they  fought,  and  the  story  runs 

(All  thanks  to  the  Heavenly  Powers), 
That  the  field  was  won  by  the  Celtic  sons; 
For  Hell  flashed  Leeward  from  out  their  guns, 

And  Gettysburg  is  ours ! 


SONGS  39 


TEARS,  TEARS. 

Tears,  tears, 
With  wifely  fears 
Immixed — I  held  my  breath, 
My  boy ! 
As  down  the  street 
The  drums  did  beat 
That  led  you  to  your  death, 
My  boy! 

Oh!    Oh! 
Where'er  I  go, 
And  soldier  boys  I  see, 
My  jo ! 
I  wis',  I  wis', 
For  him  whose  kiss 
Was  blessedness  to  me, 
My  jo  I 

Still,  still, 
By  wish  and  will, 
The  land  you  saved,  I  love, 
My  boy! 
Beneath  a  stone, 
It  holds  your  bone, 
I'll  clasp  your  soul  above, 
My  boy ! 


40  SONGS 


SHERRY  IN  THE  SADDLE. 

Sherry's  not  in  saddle, 
Sherry's  not  in  saddle, 

Zip-zip-zip !    Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat !    Rat-tat-tat  I 
Boys  in  blue  skedaddle, 
Boys  in  blue  skedaddle, 

Zip-zip-zip !    Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat !    Rat-tat-tat  I 
Sherry's  not  in  saddle, 
Sherry's  not  in  saddle, 

The  Southron  gray 

Is  King  to-day, 
For  Sherry's  not  in  saddle. 

Sherry's  in  the  saddle, 
Sherry's  in  the  saddle, 

Zip-zip-zip !    Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat  1    Rat-tat-tat ! 
Boys  in  gray  skedaddle, 
Boys  in  gray  skedaddle, 

Ziz-zip-zip !    Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat !     Rat-tat-tat  f 
Sherry's  in  the  saddle, 
Sherry's  in  the  saddle, 


SONGS  41 


The  Southron  gray 
Bites  grass  to-day, 
For  Sherry's  in  the  saddle, 

Sherry  in  the  saddle, 
Sherry  in  the  saddle, 

Zip-zip-zip  !     Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat- tat !    Rat-tat-ta  t 
Union  foes  skedaddle, 
Union  foes  skedaddle, 

Zip-zip-zip !     Zip-zip-zip ! 

Rat-tat-tat !    Rat-tat-tat ! 
Sherry  in  the  saddle, 
Sherry  in  the  saddle, 

By  night  or  day, 

'Twixt  Blue  and  Gray, 

There's  hell  to  pay, 
When  Sherry's  in  the  saddle. 


42  SONGS 


HOME!    HOME! 

Home  !    Home ! 

Man  may  roam 
While  the  blood  of  life  is  brimming, 
"While  the  head's  with  glory  swimming; 
But,  when  Love  and  Life  are  over, 
Bring  him  to  the  village  clover, 

Home !  Home ! 

Home !  Home ! 

Bring  him  home, 
Where  the  songs  of  sad  hearts  shrive  hliDy, 
Where  remorse  no  more  shall  rive  him, 
Where  the  ever  weeping  willow 
Moults  to  make  its  leaves  his  pillow. 

Home !  Home ! 

Home !  Home ! 

He  is  home, 
Where  his  song  was  ever  sounding, 
Where  his  blood  was  ever  bounding,, 
Here,  at  last,  he  leaves  his  madness., 
All  his  love  and  all  his  sadness, 

Home !    Home ! 


SONGS  43 


THE  CUSTER  WAIL. 

Dead  !    Where  the  bold  and  brave 
Blend  in  one  bloody  grave ; 
Dead !    With  no  coward  clay 
Weltering  in  gore  that  day. 

Dead!    Dead!    Ah !— Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    With  his  boys  in  blue, 
Baptized  in  bloody  dew. 
Dead !    Where  his  enemy 
Fled  from  his  fearless  eye. 

Dead !    Dead !    Ah !— Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    Like  a  meteor, 
Flashed  o'er  the  field  of  war. 
Dead !     With  immortal  pride, 
Glorious  and  glorified. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah! — Dead  to  me. 

Dead  I     Where  the  captives  sing 
Saved  by  his  rifle's  ring. 
Dead !     Where  the  painted  brave 
Bled  by  his  gory  glaive. 

Dead!    Dead!    Ah! — Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    Where  the  feathered  game 
Fell  at  his  deadly  aim. 


44  SONGS 


Dead !    Where  the  buffalo 
Found  hiui  a  gallant  foe. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah !— Dead  to  rne. 

Dead !     Where  the  prairie  steed 
Vainly  exerts  his  speed. 
Dead!     Where  the  antlered  stag 
Dies  on  the  dizzy  crag. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah !— Dead  to  me. 

Dead !     Where  the  valleys  sink 
Low  to  the  river's  brink. 
Dead !     Where  the  mountains  spring 
Higher  than  eagle's  wing. 
Dead !    Dead !    Ah ! — Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    Where  the  solar  glows 
Eastward  and  upward  rose. 
Dead !    Where  the  evening's  gold 
Westward  and  downward  rolled. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah! — Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    Where  the  streamy  vales 
Murmur  their  tender  tales. 
Dead !    Where  the  ocean's  roll 
Sobs  for  the  passing  soul. 
Dead!     Dead!    Ah !— Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    Where  the  thicket's  throats 
Mingle  their  million  notes. 


SONGS  45 


Dead !    Where  the  forests  dim 
Tone  their  lone  requiem. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah '.—Dead  to  me. 

Dead!    Where  the  eagle's  scream 
Shortens  the  hunter's  dream. 
Dead!    Where  the  nightingale 
Trills  out  her  lonely  tale. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah '.—Dead  to  me. 

Dead !    Where  no  maiden  fair 
Weaves  with  his  waving  hair. 
Dead !    Where  no  darling  sips 
Life  from  his  loving  lips. 
Dead!    Dead!    Ah !— Dead  to  me. 

Dead!    Where  no  woman's  breast, 
Robbed  of  her  love  and  rest, 
Flower  with  a  fading  leaf, 
Sinks  in  her  silent  grief. 
Dead !    Dead !    Ah !— Dead  to  me. 

Dead !  Nevermore  to  be. 
Dead !  Nevermore  to  be. 
Dead !  Evermore  to  me. 
Dead !  Evermore  to  me. 
Deadl    Dead!    Ah!— Dead  to  ME! 


46  SONGS 


WEEP  NOT  FOR  HIM. 

Weep  not  for  him  who,  in  the  battle  dying, 
Lives  in  the  lays  of  those  he  sought  to  save ; 

Weep  not  for  him  who  on  the  cold  turf  lying, 
Finds  in  his  native  land  a  patriot's  grave ; 

Weep  not  for  him  for  whom  the  night  wind,  sighing, 
Spreads  o'er  his  bier  the  banner  of  the  brave ; 

But,  o'er  the  ashes  of  the  dead  hussar, 

Shout  to  the  thunder  and  the  trump  of  war. 

Go  weep  for  her  who,  by  her  Love's  side  sighing, 
Gives  to  the  grave  the  form  she  loved  so  well ; 

And  weep  for  her  who  meets  no  soft  replying 
To  the  sweet  story  she  would  die  to  tell ; 

Aye,  weep  for  her  whose  Love,  to  Lethe  flying, 
Left  on  her  Up  no  mark  of  his  farewell ; 

Oh,  weep  for  her  whose  star  of  life  is  dim ; 

Weep,  weep  for  her ;  but  weep  no  more  for  him. 


SONGS  47 


TARRY  YE  NOT  IN  EGYPT. 

The  Lord  is  wroth  with  Pharaoh's  men, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 
He  hath  raised  His  strong  arm  to  smite  furrow  and  fen, 
And  he'll  smite  them  and  smite  them  again  and  again. 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt  I 
The  Lord  is  wroth  with  Pharaoh's  men, 
He  hath  raised  His  strong  arm  to  smite  furrow  and  fen, 
And  he'll  smite  them  and  smite  them  again  and  again, 

So  tarry  no  longer  in  Egypt. 

The  Lord  hath  set  His  sign  in  the  sky, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 
And  all  the  first-born  in  the  land  shall  die, 
The  fathers  shall  perish,  the  mothers  shall  sigh. 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 
The  Lord  hath  set  His  sign  in  the  sky, 
And  all  the  first-born  in  the  land  shall  die ; 
The  fathers  shall  perish,  the  mothers  shall  sigh, 

So  tarry  no  longer  in  Egypt ! 

The  Lord  hath  hardened  the  heart  of  the  King, 
Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 


48  SONGS 


So  the  creatures  that  crawl  and  the  insects  that  sting 
Will  add  terror  to  life  and  bring  death  on  the  wing. 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 
The  Lord  hath  hardened  the  heart  of  the  King, 
So  the  creatures  that  crawl  and  the  insects  that  sting 
Will  add  terror  to  life  and  bring  death  on  the  wing, 

So  tarry  no  longer  in  Egypt ! 

There  is  blood  on  the  river  and  blood  on  the  door, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 
The  land  shall  be  red  on  the  sea  and  the  shore, 
And  the  blood  of  the  Ruler  shall  reign  nevermore. 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not, 

Tarry  ye  not  in  Egypt ! 
There  is  blood  on  the  river  and  blood  on  the  door, 
The  land  shall  be  red  on  the  sea  and  the  shore, 
And  the  blood  of  the  Ruler  shall  reign  nevermore, 

So  tarry  no  longer  in  Egypt ! 


SONGS 


GIF  A  LASSIE  SPURN  A  LADDIE. 

Gif  a  lassie  spurn  a  laddie 

Wi'  her  needless  Nays, 
Thraves  will  pet  the  hapless  plaidie 

Wi'  their  loving  ways ; 
So,  if  Kirsty  blaw  him  cauldly 

As  a  winter  day, 
Bess  and  Belle  will  bless  him  bauldly 

Wi'  the  breath  of  May. 

Prudery  still  affects  the  valley, 

Shady  and  alane, 
Meeting  souls  that  loveward  sally, 

Icy  as  a  stane. 
On  the  mountain  true  Love  singeth, 

Liberty  is  there ; 
Dalliance  wingeth,  Pleasure  springeth, 

From  her  waving  hair. 

On  the  peaks  abide  the  pleasures, 

Young  and  sweet  and  free, 
Yoked  with  Youth's  immortal  treasures, 

Love  and  Liberty ; 
So,  the  hilltops  seek  whiie  soaring, 

Eaglet  of  Love's  sky ; 
Light  adorned  and  Light  adoring, 

Bask,  and  burn  and  die. 


50  SONGS 


THE  AMERICAN  CONSUMMATION. 

The  day  of  War  is  over 

When,  to  please  a  Prince  alone, 
A  thousand  slaughtered  wretches 

Were  to  the  eagles  thrown. 
There  is  gloom  upon  its  glory, 

There  is  rust  upon  its  sword, 
For  the  day  of  Peace  is  dawning 

In  the  coming  of  the  Lord. 

Arise  in  Christian  manhood 

And  join  the  joyous  throng, 
With  Jesus  in  your  music 

And  His  mercy  in  your  song ; 
For  His  blood  hath  been  the  ransom 

For  the  World,  for  you,  for  me, 
And  His  love  o'erflows  the  mountains 

In  an  everlasting  sea. 

For  the  Christ  who  rose  in  glory 

Shall  return  to  earth  the  same, 
And  the  warring  hosts  shall  vanish 

At  the  voicing  of  His  name ; 
And  the  stars  shall  flash  new  splendors 

At  the  fulness  of  His  grace, 
For  the  Heavens  reflect  His  glory, 

And  the  Earth  shall  show  His  face. 


SONGS  51 


Then,  with  Mercy  in  the  mighty, 

And  forgiveness  in  the  strong, 
The  meek  shall  be  our  judges, 

And  the  Right  shall  rule  the  Wrong; 
And,  with  one  acclaim,  all  peoples 

Will  the  Love  of  Jesus  praise, 
And  their  Glory  Hallelujahs 

Shall  fill  the  happy  days. 


52  SONGS 


THE  YOUNG  VETS. 

We  all  know  the  face  of  the  chap  who  can  tell 

How  he  led  the  victorious  van, 
Through  whose  terrible  yell  all  the  enemy  fell 

Or  fled  from  this  murderous  man. 

We  all  know  the  pate  of  the  chap  who  was  late, 

Too  late  for  a  wound  or  a  scar, 
A  year  or  two  late  for  a  soldierly  fate, 

And  twenty  too  late  for  the  war. 

We  all  know  the  voice  of  Goliah  the  Great, 

Who  never  smelt  powder,  you  know, 
Who  came  to  the  field  of  battle  too  late 

To  give  little  David  a  show. 

We  all  know  the  tale  of  the  chap  who  delights 

To  tell  all  the  girls  he  can  find 
Of  the  terrible  sights,  of  the  feuds  and  the  fights, 

That  he  fought  in  the  depths  of  his  mind. 

On  a  Century  Map,  we  all  know  the  chap 
Who  can  trace  his  proud  place  without  fear, 

Who  claims  the  drum-tap  found  him  first  in  the  gap, 
Though  he  skulked  forty  miles  in  the  rear. 


SONGS  5S 


MAIDEN  KNICKERBOCKER  AND  THE 
GALLANT  CAPTAIN  PICKWICK. 


MAIDEN. 

O  MY  gallant  Captain,  whither  and  away? 
Know'st  thou  Jersey  Pirates  smuggle  in  the  bay? 
Won't  you  take  me  with  you  for  a  little  fly? 
If  the  Pirates  catch  you,  I'll  shoot  'em  with  my  eye. 

CAPTAIN. 

Come,  Manhattan  Maiden,  share  the  sailor's  pains. 
If  the  Pirates  catch  me,  save  me  from  their  chains. 
Meantime  mark  the  sailor  mount  the  topmast  high, 
Till  his  trim  tarpaulin  almost  scrapes  the  sky, 
Luffing  to  the  starboard,  tacking  o'er  the  bay, 
Thus  Manhattan  Captains  sail  their  lives  away. 

MAIDEN. 

Who's  the  girl  out  yonder  reaching  up  so  high, 
With  her  jack-o'-lantern  darkening  up  the  sky? 
Do  you  think  she's  pretty?    Do  you  think  it  pays 
Standing  up  so  bare  like,  with  no  polonaise? 

CAPTAIN. 

Now,  Manhattan  Maiden,  'tis  the  Law  Marine 
No  form  but  that  of  Captain  must  on  this  Bay  be  seen ; 
So  look  at  me,  my  maiden,  mark  my  windward  eye, 
Neptune  his  sweet  Venus  loves  no  more  than  I. 


54  SONGS 


Luffing  to  the  starboard,  tacking  o'er  the  bay, 
Thus  the  loving  Captain  sails  his  life  away. 

MAIDEN. 

What  are  those  far  Highlands,  blue  as  Beauty's  eye, 
Looking  like  the  islands  of  an  upper  sky? 
Take  me  to  their  summits  that  I  may  explore 
All  the  caves  and  creatures  I  never  saw  before. 

CAPTAIN. 

'Tis  a  mystic  saying:  "  He  who  seeks  that  shore 
Fades  and  then  his  fate  is  never  heard  of  more." 
Such  a  distant  prospect  seek  not  now  to  spy, 
Let  one  loving  sailor  fill  your  starry  eye. 
Luffing  to  the  starboard,  tacking  o'er  the  Bay, 
Thus  the  gallant  Captain  sails  his  life  away. 

MAIDEN. 

Where  is  the  Atlantic?    I've  heard  grandfather  say 
He  sailed  on  its  huge  surge  from  Holland  far  away, 
O  take  me  to  the  Ocean  where  the  steamer  sails, 
A  wonder  to  the  lubbers  and  terror  to  the  whales. 

CAPTAIN. 

Lubbers'  yarns !    My  Maiden,  trust  you  what  I  say, 
There  never  was  an  Ocean — nothing  but  this  Bay, 
And  if  you'll  be  my  bride,  the  whole  world  we'll  explore, 
In  sight  of  New  York  Harbor  and  Staten  Island  shore. 
Luffing  to  the  starboard,  tacking  o'er  the  Bay, 
Thus  the  married  Captain  sails  his  life  away. 


SONGS  55 


IT  IS  TIME  TO  BEGIN  TO  CONCLUDE. 

Ye  Parsons,  desirous  all  sinners  to  save, 

And  to  make  each  a  prig  or  a  prude, 
If  two  thousand  long  years  have  not  made  us  behave, 

It  is  time  you  began  to  conclude. 

Te  Husbands,  who  wish  your  sweet  mates  to  grow  mum, 
And  whose  tongues  you  have  never  subdued, 

If  ten  years  of  your  reign  have  not  made  them  grow 
dumb, 
It  is  time  to  begin  to  conclude. 

Ye  Matrons  of  men  whose  brown  meerschaum  still  mars 

The  sweet  kiss  with  tobacco  bedewed, 
After  pleading  nine  years,  if  they  still  pufE  cigars, 

It  is  time  you  began  to  conclude. 

Ye  Lawyers,  who  aim  to  reform  all  the  land, 

And  your  statutes  forever  intrude, 
If  five  thousand  lost  years  have  not  worked  as  you 
planned, 

It  is  time  to  begin  to  conclude. 

Ye  Lovers,  who  sigh  for  the  heart  of  a  maid, 
And  for  forty-four  years  have  pursued, 

If  two  scores  of  young  years  have  not  taught  you  your 
trade, 
It  is  time  you  began  to  conclude. 


56  SONGS 


Ye  Doctors,  who  claim  to  cure  every  ill, 

And  so  much  of  mock  learning  exude, 
If  the  Comma  Bacillus  still  laughs  at  your  pill, 

It  is  time  to  begin  to  conclude. 

Ye  Maidens  of  Fifty  who  lonely  abide, 

Yet  who  heartily  scout  solitude, 
If  Jack  with  his  whiskers  is  not  at  your  side, 

It  is  time  to  begin  to  conclude. 

Ye  Spaniards,  akin  to  the  Mexican  mule, 
And  who  have  not  fair  Cuba  subdued, 

After  three  bloody  years  of  your  miscreant  rule, 
It  is  time  you  began  to  conclude. 

We  commend  to  your  mind  Bill  McKinley's  big  toe 

In  a  boot  that  is  rugged  and  rude, 
When  that  boot  and  that  toe  give  you  notice  to  go, 

It  is  time  to  begin  to  conclude. 

Walk  Spanish  from  Cuba,  with  Miles  at  your  heel, 
And  by  Fitz  Hugh  the  Southron  pursued, 

Or  you'll  learn  from  a  thrust  of  American  steel 
That  it's  time  you  began  to  conclude. 

And  Sigsbee  will  soon  shoot  it  all  very  plain 

Into  Blanco's  most  murderous  brood, 
That  the  cry  from  the  blood  of  the  Men  of  the  Maine 

Makes  it  meet  for  mere  talk  to  conclude. 


SONGS  57 


MARSHAL  NEY'S  FAREWELL. 

Adieu  to  France !  Land  of  the  Brave,  farewell ! 

Sleep  sweetly  there,  thy  sons  will  watch  by  thee, 
High  as  thy  hills  their  burning  blood  will  swell, 

To  leave  thee  as  they  find  thee,  fair  and  free. 
The  nations  gaze  and  tremble  at  thy  spell, 

A  vision  of  eternal  Liberty, 
Emerging  from  a  swift  and  bloody  birth, 
The  terror,  wonder,  glory  of  the  earth. 

Yet,  France,  farewell !     One  son  may  find  his  grave 
Beneath  thy  soil,  and  leave  thee  marching  still, 

Napoleon  with  his  millions  of  the  brave, 
Along  the  paths  of  glory,  at  thy  will. 

Soldiers,  farewell!     And  when  your  banners  wave 
Above  my  bones  beside  some  nameless  hill, 

Stop  not  the  thunder  of  your  glorious  tread, 

To  mark  me  sleeping  with  th'  inglorious  dead. 

And  farewell,  Foes !    Brave  hearts  and  grand  of  soul ; 

We  fought  in  fierceness,  now  in  peace  we  part. 
My  luckless  heart  hath  ever  been  the  goal 

Sought  by  your  sabres,  but  in  vain,  O  Heart ! 
Welcome  to  death  amid  the  drum's  far  roll, 

Great  souls,  where  I  no  more  will  dare  your  dart. 
'Tis  best  to  die  where  war's  bluff  banners  wave, 
Swathed  in  your  guerdon,  "Bravest  of  the  brave." 


58  SONGS 


Farewell,  the  storm- voiced  Steed !  the  hero  Horse, 
That  snuffs  the  battle's  sulphury  breath  afar ; 

The  proudest  form,  the  best  compacted  force, 
That  hurls  the  earthquake  on  the  field  of  war. 

!No  more  I'll  ride,  on  his  terrific  course, 

That  meteor  maddened  through  the  lines  ajar. 

While  the  foe,  blanching  at  the  onset,  reels 

Before  his  breath  and  thunder  of  his  heels. 

Farewell,  volcanic  din,  Olympian  brattle, 

The  bursting  bomb,  the  thousand-throated  cheerT 

Tartarean  roar,  the  volleyed  rifle  rattle, 
The  rocket's  lightning  line  of  fire  and  fear. 

I  sought  my  fate  'mid  foes  in  brilliant  battle, 
Gorging  with  souls  the  hungry  atmosphere ; 

I  find  my  fate  from  one  cold  coward's  command, 

A  dozen  bullets,  and  a  friendly  hand. 

Thus  I,  once  Michael  Ney,  Marshal  of  France, 
And  soon  a  heap  of  dust,  dishonored,  sink ; — 

I,  who  have  vanned  the  Empire's  fierce  advance 
In  triple  continents  of  fame  to  drink, 

And  bore  its  backward  but  still  levelled  lance 
From  Borodino  to  the  icy  brink 

OfBeresina;  thence  defiance  hurled 

To  the  linked  thunders  of  th'  embattled  world. 

INo  bandage  bring.     Stark-eyed  the  hero  dies. 
Do  you  not  know  that  thus  for  twenty  years 


SONGS  59 


I've  faced  both  ball  and  bullet! — for  no  prize 
But  weal  of  France,  my  country?    In  man's  ears, 

Yea,  and  before  God's  all-beholding  eyes, 

I  swear  I  never  wronged  her.     But  Death  nears. 

Marshal  no  more,  behold  a  man  expire ! 

So  now,  make  ready!    Aim!    Dear  comrades,  fire! 


60  SONGS 


THE  LILY  LAND  OF  FRANCE. 

With  pensive  memories 

We  part  the  Ocean  foam, 
To  find  'neath  summer  skies 

A  country  and  a  home. 
O  lily  land  of  France, 

Farewell!    Farewell,  Paris!     (Pa-ree) 
Farewell  to  Life's  romance ! 

Welcome  the  sounding  sea ! 

Soon,  soon,  our  fading  forms 

Recede  into  the  sea, 
Which,  dark  with  all  its  storms, 

Will  veil  our  hearts  from  thee. 
O  lily  land  of  France, 

Farewell!    Farewell,  Paris! 
Farewell  to  Life's  romance ! 

Welcome  the  sounding  sea! 

In  vain,  in  farther  climes, 

Athwart  the  sweeping  sea, 
We  seek,  in  other  times, 

The  heaven  we've  lost  in  thee. 
O  lily  land  of  France, 

Farewell!    Farewell,  Paris! 
Farewell  to  Life's  romance ! 

Welcome  the  sounding  sea! 


SONGS  61 


THE  THREE  PS. 
The  Pratie,  The  Pig  and  Poteen. 

'Tis  daily  this  baste 

Will  prosade  to  the  f ayste, 

The  best  that  Ould  Oireland  has  seen ; 
The  P's  are  but  three, 
But  they're  plenty  for  me, — 

The  Pratie,  the  Pig,  the  Poteen. 

The  Pratie,  in  place, 

Has  an  iligant  face, 
That  my  mouth  opens  wide  to  let  in, 

But,  like  Widow  Machree, 

He's  so  glad  to  see  me, 
That  he  laughs  himself  out  of  his  shkin. 

He's  so  round  and  so  square, 

As  he  laughs  at  me  there, 
That  he  looks  loike  my  brother,  I  ween; 

Then  I  put  him  to  cool 

On  the  top  of  a  shtool, 
Till  I  take  a  wee  drop  of  Poteen. 

Then  I  put  him  to  cool 

On  the  top  of  a  shtool, 
Till  I  take  a  wee  drop  of  Poteen. 


62  SONGS 


But  gourmands,  ahoy ! 

The  Pig  is  the  Boy! 
Indade  he's  the  girl  to  my  taste ; 

The  form  is  so  nate, 

The  lip  is  so  swate, 
That  I  kape  her  quite  close  to  my  waist. 

But  no  cannibal  I, 

"When  I  look  in  her  eye, 
The  loikes  to  my  sister  is  seen ; 

So  I  piously  pause 

In  the  work  of  my  jaws, 
Till  I  take  a  wee  drop  of  Poteen. 

So  I  piously  pause 

In  the  work  of  my  jaw3, 
Till  I  take  a  wee  drop  of  Poteen. 

Lave  the  Pratie  to  cool 

On  the  top  of  the  shtool, 
While  we  master  this  question  of  shtate, 

Shall  I  ate?    Shall  I  swig? 

Musht  Poteen  or  the  Pig 
Be  the  first  or  the  last  on  my  plate? 

Now  my  grandfather's  ghost 

Appears  at  this  post, 
So  solemn,  so  awful  in  mien, 

To  assist  and  debate 

This  question  of  shtate 
On  the  subject  of  Pork  and  Poteen. 


SONGS  6& 


So  he  called  for  his  mug, 

And  I  gave  him  the  jug, 
Which  he  placed  at  his  delicate  mouth, 

And  he  drank  it  all  down, 

Down,  down,  Derry  down, 
He  had  such  a  terrible  drouth. 

Then,  with  jug  held  on  high, 

And  Poteen  in  his  eye, 
He  says — this  good  ghost  says  to  me : 

1 '  Hist !    Hist !    Patrick,  hist ! 

And  hould  ye  your  whist 
While  I  shpake  out  this  Scripture  to  thee. 

'Tis  Hibernian  Law 

That,  for  Oireland's  ould  jaw, 
If,  at  pig-faystes,  you  ate,  shpake  or  swig, 

If  you  have  a  great  mind, 

You  surely  will  find 
The  Poteen's  the  best  part  of  the  Pig. 

'Tis  Hibernian  Law 

That,  for  Oireland's  ould  jaw, 
If,  at  pig-faystes,  you  ate,  shpake  or  swigr 

If  you  have  a  great  mind, 

You  surely  will  find 
The  Poteen's  the  best  part  of  the  Pig." 


So,  since  that  great  day, — 
Or  that  night  I  may  say, — 


te  SONGS 


I  cook  nothing  else  for  to  ate ; 
By  the  hole  o'  my  coat, 
It  bates  Houlahan's  goat 

In  putting  Pat  off  of  his  fate. 
So,  for  Erin  go  bragh, 
Tis  both  Gospel  and  Law 

For  to  ate,  or  to  shpake  or  to  swig, 
If  you  have  a.  great  mind, 
You  surely  will  find 

The  Poteen's  the  best  part  of  the  pig! 

The  Poteen's  the  best  part  of  the  pig! 


p..-.t  .I;...:... « 


. 


sor 





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